


And I Feel Your Warmth, And It Feels Like Home

by murasakibabe



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, M/M, introspective shin chan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 06:59:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1769923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murasakibabe/pseuds/murasakibabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shintaoru knows that he loves Takao. He knows this, and he can feel it bubbling up and threatening to spill. Because even though it seems to outsiders that Takao flies about in the clouds like a bird, Shintarou knows that the dark-haired boy is sometimes the only thing keeping him from floating away himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Feel Your Warmth, And It Feels Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> this is really internalized and kind of drabbley and i suck at titles
> 
> (title from Here is the House by Depeche Mode)

Shintarou knows that he loves Takao. He knows this, and he can feel it bubbling up and threatening to spill. Because even though it seems to outsiders that Takao flies about in the clouds like a bird, Shintarou knows that the dark-haired boy is sometimes the only thing keeping him from floating away himself.

Shintarou knows that Takao shares his feelings. They have talked endlessly about their relationship and all it entails, but he also knows that there is no way Takao even feels a fraction for him what he feels for Takao. How can that be the case when Shintarou is pretty sure that his heart will burst when he merely catches a glimpse of Takao’s beautiful smile—not the huge one he throws around like spare change, but the small smile that lights up his eyes with affection instead of mirth.

Shintarou also knows that his voice can be a backstabbing bastard. He tries so hard to tell Takao how he feels, but when he does the words stick in his throat and choke him up so he just hides his blush into the shorter boy’s shoulder like a little kid. Takao will say in a quiet, amused voice, “It’s okay, Shin-chan. I know, I know.”

But how can Takao know that Shintarou’s pretty sure that his heart hasn’t done a damn thing in his entire life but whenever Takao laughs, he can feel it banging away against his ribcage?

Takao has no trouble in telling Shintarou the things he longs to be able to say out loud. He’ll pass Shintarou in the halls with a grin and an “I love you,” as if it were easy. At first, Shintarou was threatened by it. But now, he thinks he can live with the blush that spreads across his face as long as it’s paired with the pleasant _whooshing_ sensation in his belly and the simmering flames that caress his heart.

 

Leaving the club room with his bag over one shoulder and a dream catcher in one hand, Shintarou pulls his jacket closer to him to fight against the unforgiving December chill in the air. He hears footsteps and ragged breathing behind him and smiles softly to himself before training his face into indifference and turning around to see Takao running towards him.

“Shin-chaaan! You never wait for me when I ask you to!”

Chuckling once and pushing his glasses up with his free hand, he replies, “You were almost done, it would have been foolish for me to wait not even a minute.”

“Hmph.”

“You can pout, but you know I’m right.”

“Hmph.”

Shintarou looks at Takao for a moment, studying his contrived look of disappointed. Looking at the pursed lips and red cheeks, he’s pretty sure his heart is about to burst with the affection he feels. The smaller boy sees him looking and holds out his hand expectantly, wiggling his fingers for Shintarou to grab a hold of them.

They walk down the road hand in hand, far past the stage of caring what their teammates or others think. Takao likes to swing their hands between them in grand half-circles, but Shintarou just likes being able to feel the heat of the other’s hand in his. It assures him that it isn’t all a long, drawn-out dream.

“Sooo, my parents and Kaya-chan won’t be home until 9,” Takao hints slyly when they reach the crossroads where they usually part.

“Are you propositioning me?”

“Are you agreeing?”

Fighting a blush and clenching Takao’s hand tighter, Shintarou just nods and follows his boyfriend home. It’s not uncommon for this to happen, Takao’s house has almost become a second home for Shintarou with the amount of time he’s spent there.

The two tumble into the warm house, leaving their shoes at the door and hanging their coats up as they pass the coat rack. They leave their bags on the kitchen table and make their way into Takao’s room.

Shintarou’s isn’t surprised by it anymore, but the picture of the two of them—a god-awful picture from an awkward angle because Takao insisted on taking it himself even though Shintarou’s arms are longer—sitting in the frame next to Takao’s bed makes his chest feel slightly warm.  He looked at it fondly for a moment before he felt arms wrap around him from behind.

“Shin-chan,” Takao starts in a low tone, “I’ve wanted to get you alone for the past two weeks.”

“You can get me alone any time you want, idiot.”

Takao just hums and buries his face into Shintarou’s shoulder, “I got you alone now, didn’t I?”

Shintarou heaves a deep sigh before turning around and draping his arms over Takao’s shoulders.  He gazes into those silver eyes, causing the shorter boy to blush. Takao opens his mouth for some sort of encouragement or quip but Shintarou silences him with a deep kiss before he could get a word out.

Their mouths move together in a tangle of tongues and teeth. Shintarou brings a hand up and threads his fingers through silky black strands before breaking the kiss and saying, “Yeah, you did. Gonna do anything about it?”

Being vocal was easier when there was sex involved. It makes no sense to him, but Shintarou revels in the knowledge. He is always more comfortable letting Takao know what he wants in bed, and although he vehemently denies it, Takao always teases that he gets downright suggestive when the time comes.

Making a low groaning noise in the back of his throat, Takao leads the two of them to his bed and pushes down in Shintarou’s shoulders until he’s sitting down in the edge of the mattress. He climbs up on his lap and gives his lips a playful nip before answering slyly, “You better bet I’ll do something about it.”

The two end up laying face to face on the bed, sharing tender kisses and light touches. Takao gently unravels the tape around Shintarou’s left hand, kissing and nipping and licking at the newly exposed skin. He brings the hand to his hip before readjusting himself and straddling the green-haired boy, using his other hand to place Shintarou’s glasses on the bedside drawer.

It never really needs many words, the two of them knowing the other’s body like a well-played instrument. They like to take their time when they have it; the preparation is always long and careful, Takao dragging his fingers in deliberate strokes inside of Shintarou. He flicks his wrist and kisses along the side of Shintarou’s stomach, murmuring into his flesh.

“Love you so much, Shin-chan. You’re just so good and so beautiful and I love you.”

It makes the breath catch in his throat and his cheeks blaze with a wicked blush, but it also sets off a fluttering in Shintarou’s heart and he lets out a keening moan when Takao’s fingers brush up against his prostate.

It’s not as if he’s silent in moments like these, but when Takao is carefully lining himself up and draping his leg over his shoulder, Shintarou can only make half comprehendible noises and pleased sighs. However, when they start to move together in synchronization, creating friction to make his toes curl and kissing forcefully enough that he’s not sure exactly whose lips are his, Takao is still able to let out a litany of praises and encouragements.

“Mmph. You’re so, so good for me, Shin-chan,” he says between labored breaths into Shintarou’s mouth, “You look so beautiful like this, you’re so beautiful.”

“Takao—oh it’s good, like that,” Shintarou pants into Takao’s neck.

Takao knows how to make Shintarou see stars; he likes to make it long and drawn out sometimes, until they’re both fighting for breath and on the very edge of ecstasy. He can make Shintarou’s toes curl with one swipe of his thumb or one thrust of his hips and it should scare him to know that another person knows his body even better than him, but it doesn’t. Because the trust that Shintarou has for his bright-eyed partner is one of the only things in this world he knows is absolute.

Shintarou feels the fire in his veins start at his heart and make his way to his entire body and he tugs on Takao’s hair and moans into his mouth to warn him before tipping over the edge. He keens, making embarrassingly high-pitched moans in the back of his throat, and he feels rather than hears Takao’s breath quicken as he fucks him through the orgasm. Following shortly after, Takao buries his head in the crook of Shintarou’s neck and lets out a loud moan when he reaches his peak.

Collapsing in top of Shintarou, Takao shakily brings his hands up to frame his face and kisses him passionately. “I love you,” he sighs, causing Shintarou to feel a clench in his chest.

Shintarou pushes himself up in a sitting position with Takao still on his lap. He looks into those bright silver eyes as if he were searching for something. He opens his mouth to say something.

“Takao, I—”

The words get caught in his throat and tears form in his eyes as he lets out an irritated huff. He can feel all there; he feels the love washing over him in a torrential downpour. He knows what it is that causes his heart to pound against his ribs and he knows why the fire in his veins only blaze in Takao’s presence. He has never been surer of anything in his life than he is sure of his love for the boy in front of him, but like always, his words fail him.

“Shin-chan, it’s ok. I know,” Takao says with a light smile that contradicts the complete seriousness of his tone, “I understand.”

Feeling his lower lip quiver and his heart soar through the clouds, Shintarou brings his arms up and wraps them around Takao tightly, letting his head rest on his shoulder. He feels Takao’s heart thumping against his, and he’s probably imagining it, but he thinks that it’s beating along with the same intensity as his.

Shintarou knows that he loves Takao.

Takao knows it, too.

**Author's Note:**

> bottom midorima for life


End file.
